The Rising Dawn
by bluerain1984
Summary: (SEQUEL! Read 'Across Distant Shores' first) She was unlike any other Halfling. Decendant of legends, destined for peril, Dawn must uncover her mysterious past in order to save Middle Earth from an evil greater than even Sauron.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord Of The Rings or any of it's characters. The Books belong to J. R.R. Tolkien, and the movies to New Line. The songs belong to Enya.   
  
A.N. Since my fanfic was such a success, I just couldn't resist the urge to write a sequel. This is a mystery, an adventure, a romance, and even a bit of a ghost story. I hope you all will enjoy this fic.   
  
The Rising Dawn  
  
Prologue   
  
It was twilight on the sea as the old Hobbit woman stood by the window in her room, beneath the decks of the Elven ship. Carole Greendown Baggins looked out at the bounding waves as the moon began to rise. If one looked at her, she seemed no older than 59 years old, but in truth she would have been over 100 if it were not for the events that took her from the Shire over 40 years ago. As she stood, her memory wandering over her youth, a sudden sound made her turn away from the little window. She walked over to where she had carefully laid her pack down on the bed, and with both her hands she gently lifted up the small bundle she had secretly carried. With a quick movement, she uncovered her treasure, the small Hobbit child, and sat on the bed, rocking back and fourth to quiet the waking baby.   
  
"Shush, little one, " Carole whispered softly, "It's alright, Aurora . We're on a Elven ship, don't you know? We're going to Valinor. Don't fret, dear, your Granny's here, and your Grand-Da will be back soon."  
  
"Sooner than you thought, dearest," said Carole's husband, Frodo Baggins, standing in the doorway. Even after 40 years, he was still as quick and silent as he was young and could set traps and hunt in the woods outside their home back in the green Western lands.   
  
"Goodness, Frodo, don't do that!" said Carole, sighing with relief, "You gave me an awful fright."  
  
"Forgive me, my love, but when you dote on little Dawn, anything, whether it's a dragon or an army of Orcs could come by and you wouldn't even blink," he said with a smile as he sat down next to his bride.  
  
"True, but still, we need to be careful. Suppose Thoron, or Gem, or- worse- even Gandalf came in-"  
  
"Indeed, suppose he did," said the voice of the White Wizard. Both the Hobbits looked up, and standing five feet away was Gandalf The White himself, his robes still a blinding white after hundreds of years, his staff in his hand. "Suppose he did come by? What do you think he would do if he discovered your stowaway, hm?" The old wizard laughed a big and hearty laugh as he came closer, and looked down upon his old friends and their granddaughter. "I don't see why you thought you needed keep her a secret," he said, "She is welcome here, as you two are welcome. There is no need to hide her."  
  
"It's not that we wanted to hide her, Gandalf," said Frodo, "We were just unsure if it would have been alright to bring her with us."  
  
"Especially under such short notice," added Carole. "Truth be told, we thought to let our daughter, Samantha, take care of her, but the poor thing's always been sick, and ever since her mother and father died…"she could not finish, for the memory, still so fresh in her mind, brought tears to her old brown eyes.  
  
"Have no fear, my friends, I know your troubles. Your granddaughter is welcome here. And I am sure that she will bring some needed excitement on this rather dull voyage." Gandalf said as he began to chuckle.   
  
And he was right. The crew and their friends, the Dwarves Tor, Dain, Thain, Gwain, and Gem, and the Humans Thoron, his wife Hope, and Hope's brother Homer, all loved the child instantly. For the rest of the short voyage, none could get over the child, who's blue eyes were always filled with wonder, and whose black curls shined even in the Moonlight. The only thing odd about her was that she was a bit larger than most Hobbit children should be, and her skin a perpetual tan. But being a sweet baby, none gave these a second thought.   
  
********************************************   
  
Carole sat with Aurora in her arms, rocking in a new chair in their home on the Isle of Valinor. Only a month had passed, and yet it seemed as if they had always been living in their small house, and also as if they had arrived just yesterday. As she began to sing a lullaby to Aurora, there came a knock at the door to the not-quite-a-nursery.   
  
"Come in," she said softly, so she wouldn't disturb the baby. Sam Gamgee, Frodo's closest friend and gardener poked his head in. Though he had long since been released of his services as gardener and been his own master, when they had returned to Valinor Sam insisted on calling them 'Mr.' and 'Miss'.   
  
"Beggin' your pardon, Miss Carole," Sam said from the door, "But you're needed in the parlor." His kind old voice seemed troubled, and a bit nervous. How odd for someone who had always seemed cheerful, no matter what the circumstance.  
  
"Thank you Sam," Carol replied. She put Aurora in her crib (a gift from the Lady Galadriel) and she followed Sam into the parlor room. There waited Gandalf, Lord Elrond, and Lady Galadriel on her right, and Bilbo Baggins, Frodo's uncle, and Frodo on her left. The three Elven Ringbearers faces, normally warm and kind, were now of stone. Bilbo's old face was downcast, his pity obvious, and Frodo's blue eyes held bitter tears.   
  
"What's wrong?" asked Carole. "Please, tell me, what is wrong," she said, though she already half guessed.   
  
Frodo was the first to speak, "I'm sorry, love. We can't keep her."  
  
"Why?" she asked.  
  
"Elrond and Galadriel say that they have seen her future, and…"  
  
"Forgive us, my friend," said lord Elrond, "but a fortnight ago, a vision came to me. I looked into her future, and saw grief, pain, and despair."   
  
"Then why send her away?" cried Carole, as her heart began to break, "Why not keep her here, in peace and happiness?"  
  
"If she does not go," said Galadriel, "then all the world, even this land, is doomed. Two nights ago, Elrond told me of his vision. I wanted to know if he was correct, thus I looked into my Mirror. First, I saw a tall man and a Hobbit lass standing side by side under the flowering trees. Then, I saw Aurora, as she is now, cradled in your arms. Finally, I saw Aurora once more, older, in her 'tweens', standing before a dark and powerful Queen. Last night I looked once more, and saw all of Middle Earth covered in shadow. Then, I saw that same shadow cover the entire world. My final vision was of the same dark Queen, sitting on the throne of Gondor, a Mithril crown on her head, The Simarils embedded in that crown, and a Ring on her finger."  
  
"They came to me with their visions," said Gandalf, "and after great debate, we came to the decision that these visions mean that Aurora must bring down this Queen, or she will cover all in her darkness. For that, dawn must leave Valinor."  
  
"But…" Carole said, "but where will you take her?"  
  
"To the Shire," said Gandalf, "She will be safest there."  
  
"But who will take care of her?"  
  
"That will all be taken care of, good lady. For now, I suggest that you spend this day with Aurora. For she will be taken tonight before the Moon rises.  
  
************************************  
  
Merimac Brandybuck III, the Master Of Brandybuck Hall, sat in his great study, reading the book of legends that his ancestor, Meriadoc the Magnificent, collected long ago. At nearly 40, he and his wife, Eliza, had had no children, and their house rang with the fact. His brothers and sisters, and all his cousins, who resided with them had had children already, some of them even in their pre-teens, yet he and Eliza were never blessed with a child. For a year his lovely wife had been deeply distressed, for she wanted a child more than anything. But in recent weeks, his wife had become restless. She had taken to looking out windows, going for walks by the Brandywine river, and taking out her old quilt sewings, which she had packed away when she gave up on having anyone to make a quilt for. Whenever Merimac questioned his wife about this odd behavior, her face would go blank, and then she would reply, "I'm not sure. I feel as if I'm waiting."  
  
"For what?" Merimac would say.  
  
"I don't know," Eliza would reply.  
  
Then, as morning's first light crept over the tops of the trees, a commotion of many feet came running up to the study's door. Then, several of Merimac's cousins burst through the door, shouting, "Eliza's found a baby in the river!!"  
  
"What?!" said Merimac, in disbelief.  
  
"Eliza's found a little baby in the Brandywine!," said little Danwise Bolger, the youngest of Merimac's cousins (the lad was only 4). "We were by the river- "  
  
"Shush, Danny," said the boy's father, Danmar Bolger, "Eliza was taking one of her walks, with some of the children, and one pointed across the river and said, "'Look! Elves in the trees!'" but all we could catch were what looked like green-hooded Bigfolk running back through the trees. Then, Eliza saw a small white basket floating in the reeds nearby, and she got it out. And wonder of wonders, she finds a baby girl inside!"  
  
"Well don't stand there, take me to Eliza!" shouted Merimac. Soon, they had made their way to one of the front rooms, where Eliza sat in a large armchair, indeed holding a baby girl in her arms. As Merimac came closer, he passed the white basket the foundling had been in. As he stood beside hi wife, he looked at the child in the wraps. The baby clothes alone were strange enough. They were of fine cloth, finer even than what was imported from Gondor, and the embroidery was too exquisite for words.   
  
Then there was the child herself. She was a beautiful baby, to be sure, but her skin was a warm light copper, and her hair was as black as night, but the curls caught and held the light of the dim lit room as if the Sun shone bright on it. And her eyes were a deep and dark shade of blue that none had ever seen before.  
  
Merimac leaned in close to his wife and said, "How can this be?"  
  
"I don't know," said Eliza, smiling at the little jewel she held. "All I know is that our wish has been answered. After all these years, my dear, we have our own child."   
  
"Yes, but what will we call her? I don't suppose there was a piece of paper attached to that basket?" he said, half joking as the baby reached up and grabbed his index finger.  
  
"No," said Eliza, "But I already have a name for her. Dawn, because I found her at sunrise."  
  
"Then Dawn it is," said Merimac with a smile. "Dawn Brandybuck"  
  
A.N. Haha! I hope you like the prologue! Coming soon: Chapter 1! Please reveiw 


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Sorry for not updating in so long, and for the short chapter, but I felt this was enough for now. I must spend more time watching ROTK. Please read and review!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
She watched the small hobbit children playing as she sat on the river bank, the breeze blowing her long, wavy, black hair free from it's braid. Dawn Brandybuck love to watch other hobbits going about their daily business; it let her take in the details of their faces for later when she would recreate them in her sketch book But she would never speak to the people she drew. It wasn't that she was shy. She just knew what a stranger's reaction would be to her. She was only 18, not even a tween, and she was already pushing 4 foot 1, and still growing! Add her unusual height to her perpetually tanned skin, her large but hairless feet, and her almost-but-not-quite wavy hair. She was different. She knew she was. Her parents, Eliza and Merimac, used to try and explain things like 'You get it from Meriadoc The Magnificent. He was 4 feet tall' or 'You spend so much time playing outside, it's no wonder you've gotten a little more sun than most', but it was no use. She knew the story of how her parents had never had children, and low and behold, one day her mother found her in a basket, floating down the Brandywine. It was no wonder she had almost no friends.  
  
Yes, she did have a few friends, but they were boys. Boys she'd known her whle life, and was related to in some fashion. One was Egret Took, the next in line to be Thain of the Shire. She and him had at least that one thing in common, for she was her father's only heir, meaning that if she didn't marry someone then she would be Mistress of Brandybuck Hall ( there had only been one other to hold that title, by the name of Marigold brandy buck, and she hadn't held it long, for she then married her second cousin thrice removed, who took her last name and let the rein of sucession last from father to son for generations until the present), but that was unlikely since Dawn had many relatives who were eager to snatch her inheritance away, unlike Egret. Though he came from a well to do family that was known for great courage, he was a coward. He'd run from a fight, and didn't even dare climb a tree for fear he would fall and break his neck. But she had befriended him, anyway, and she had enough courage for them both, just he had enough jolliness for them both (and to spare, for he at least had the Took family's hereditary good nature). He was also taller than most, but he only exceeded the norm by two inches.   
  
Her other friend, well, more of an acquaintance, was Tarin Fairbairn. He was, as all his kind were, handsome and more ethereal than other hobbits, but he had taken it upon himself to betroth himself to Dawn back when they were small in spite of the fact that she had no interest in him. She still didn't, but that did not stop him from becoming her official suitor (though people thought he was loony for it, and not a good match at all).  
  
The last of her friends, and the closest, was Danny. Danwise Bolger, one of the numerous relations that also lived in The Hall, but he stood out amongst them all. Not in any way of talent or skill mind you (for he was considered clumsy and quite shy of others), but for how he was the first to become her friend, though he was five years her senior. He had always watched out for her, been there to listen to her secrets, and she his, and he was considered just as different as she was; his father was half Baggins, and passed down his love of maps to Danny, while his mother was a Gamgee, pure and simple and born with a great love of gardening. In all truth, Dawn called Danny her heart's brother, for he alone also shared a slight curiosity for the world beyond the Shire. (It is true that Brandybucks, Fairbairns, and Tooks made a yearly pilgrimage to Gondor to visit the halls of the kings and pay respects to the last three members of the legendary Fellowship, but Dawn had never been since the journey was in winter, before Yule, and she always came down with coughing fits during winter. And since she couldn't go, neither did Danny, so he'd only been out of the Shire once in his life.)   
  
But now, as she sat by the river, she heard familiar voices being carried across the wind.   
  
"But she might not feel like having visitors," Danny said, worriedly.   
  
"No fear, Danny boy," said Egret. "She seemed in a good enough mood at breakfast."  
  
"That was before you ate her muffin," said Tarin.   
  
"She didn't want it," Egret defended himself, "She hates blackberries."  
  
"But it was impolite. For all your high heritage, you have no manners.""Please don't go disturbin her now. She said she didn't want to talk to anyone today," Danny beggedthem, but they had seen her, and soon they were standing in front of her.   
  
Tarin made a very elaborate bow, put out his hand, and said, "Tis a pleasure to see you on this fine day, Miss Brandybuck."  
  
"Tarin," Dawn sighed heavily with frustration, "You saw me at breakfast. I was fine then, and I'm still fine right now. And Egret, I hold you no ill will concerning that muffin. I just don't feel like talking."  
  
"I tried to get them to leave," Danny explained as she got up and dusted off her skirts. She turned to her best friend and said, "It's quite alright. I was about to go in and sketch a few things, anyway." But they still followed her, and no wonder. She was the unofficial leader of their small company, having dragged them off into the woods time after time to go looking for trouble. But such a thing in the Shire was uncommon, and the only real adventures they'd had stemmed from climbing trees, at which her mother or Danny's would yell, 'You children get down from there! You'll fall and break your necks, and then where will you be?' (this was why Egret feared climbing so much).   
  
But as they walked back to The Hall, two young Hobbiton lasses passed by, and Dawn heard them whisper, "That's the Giant." and "Oh my, she is the strangest thing I've ever seen." Dawn hated when others made these comments. Especially in the presence of her friends. If they ever heard those comments, they would often either start to defend her, making a scene she didn't want, or try to shower her with all her many virtues, which she wanted even less.   
  
"You hear that boys," Egret said, "I'm a Giant!"   
  
"Shut up, Fool of a Took," Tarin said, punching him in the arm.   
  
"What was that for?" Egret asked, genuinely confused.   
  
"Just stay quiet," Tarin said, "You'll offend the Lady Dawn."  
  
"You offend her quite enough," Danny whispered beside her, making her laugh. So they headed off for luncheon 


	3. Chapter 2

--------------------Authoress's Note----------------------

Sorry this took so long in getting written. But I recently bought the ROTK:EE, and it's inspired me to write some more on this. So, here's the next chapter!

Chapter 2

"Miss Dawn, you don't have to come with me. There's still time to turn around." Danny said as he and Dawn rode their ponies - Danny's shy, calm mare, Thyme, and Dawn's charger, Rohir, - up the roadway to Bag End. It was the ancient home of the Bagginses, which was handed down to Frodo the Wanderer's servant, Samwise Gamgee, The First and The Brave. Since the time of Samwise, it had been past down to the first born sons of the Gamgee-Gardners (later known as just the Gardners ). Out of many generations, Danny's Gamgee grandfather came to win it 100 years ago, then it was passed to Danny's mother -being an only child- and soon would be Danny's. But as it stood now, the old home was in disarray; it was dusty and uncared for, and the citizens of Hobbiton were divided as to whether the house should be torn down or preserved as a historic landmark and made a museum. But Danny had finally come to age back in August, and now after a month of waiting he'd summoned up the courage to go and clear it out. And Dawn volunteered to help him.

"Danny, I want to help," she said cheerfully, "Besides, I've always wanted to know what the great Frodo Baggins' house looked like." She was so excited that even Rohir could hear it, and his old warhorse blood was stirring at the excitement his lady was emanating.

"But you might get into one of your fits from all the dust," Danny protested, "And besides… it might have changed since then."

"Don't be ridiculous," Dawn said, "My sickness only comes in winter. And nothing ever changes in the Shire, Danny. It's a common fact." But this was a big enough change for Dawn's dreary life. She was going to see a piece of living history! But as her happiness seemed ready to bubble over, she and Danny both heard a rush of galloping behind them. They turned, and saw, who else, but Tarin and Egret coming up behind them.

Danny groaned. Dawn sighed. They always followed. And always got them all four into trouble.

"Good morning, Lady Dawn," Tarin said as he and Egret's ponies caught up with them. "Why, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Surprise?" Egret asked, "Tarin, we followed them."

Tarin laughed nervously, "Oh Eggy, you jest!" Tarin turned back to dawn and said with a big charming smile, "We were simply going out for a brisk morning ride, when we saw you and decided to join your company."

"That's not true," Egret said innocently, "Uncle Merrimac said she was gone and we went looking for her and Danny. You're memory is terrible." Then Egret looked at Dawn with hurt green eyes and said, "Why did you two leave without us? It wasn't very polite."

"We're doing something very important," Danny said, "I have to fix up Bag End! It's my inheritance, you know. And Dawn wanted to help me."

"You still should have asked us to come," Egret said, "We can help."

"How?" Dawn asked, "You might break some delicate urn from the Third Age. And Tarin, you hate doing housework. You'd be miserable in all that dust."

"I would face a whole storm of dust for you, Lady Dawn," Tarin said, sitting up taller in his saddle. Danny nearly retched.

"Whatever," Dawn sighed. "Just remember: don't get in our way, and if something is either old, made of glass, or looks important, don't touch it! Ya, Rohir! Ya!" she commanded the steed, and it raced ahead of the three tired ponies. Dawn loved her Rohir. He wasn't just another hobbit sized pony. He had been a gift from Merrimac; the foal of a horse from the lands of Rohan. Rohir would someday be a grand stallion, and with the rate at which Dawn kept growing, she would still be able to ride him.

She was the first to reach the top of The Hill, and slowly dismounted her steed. She looked up, and her mouth dropped open at the sight. She was here. She was actually here. She stood on the threshold of the ancient and legendary Bag End. She tied Rohir's reins to a fencepost, and went through the old gate, walking past the weed strewn path, and up to the faded green door. As she reached out her hand to touch the wooden door, feeling the rough grain of the wood under her fingertips, she couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity. Like she'd stood here before; had stood on this step many times. But she'd never seen Bag End before, except in old paintings in Brandybuck Hall. She felt like… like she'd finally come home.

The magic moment was gone as Danny, Egret, and Tarin came trooping up to the fence. For when they had dismounted, the first words out of Egret's mouth were, "What a dump."

"Watch it," Danny warned, "That's my mother's ancestral home."

"Well, we're here," Dawn said. She turned, and looked back at her companions, smiled, and said, "Now let's go in and get started."

------------------------------------Transition-------------------------------------------

The night was quiet on the great island of Valinor. Most were in their homes, resting, as only five residents of the island were able to truly sleep. Nevertheless, no one was around when one of the many enormous mirrors in the grand central hall started to glow. Then, the glass began to ripple, like water in a pond when a rock's been thrown into it, and out from the rippling center emerged a dainty, pale hand. It was soon followed by another hand like it. The two fair hands grasped the frames of the mirror, and out stepped a being draped in darkness. She was taller, and her black hair ran down past her knees. She was cloaked in black velvet, while her dress was a deep, rich purple satin, it's hem swirling about her small, bare feet like smoke. One her brow rested a golden circlet, and her red lips slipped effortlessly into a sly smile. With her eyes closed she was a sight of beauty. But her eyelids opened, and showed the secret they were hiding. Her eyes were blacker than pitch, and no light could be reflected from them for their malice and anger swallowed all light. 

Then, from the still rippling mirror, steppedanother tall being. One with red hair, and the elongated ears of the Eldar. His deep emerald eyes looked about the old hall he once had stood in, and he sighed. Before his strong, calloused hand could touch the single golden loop in his perfect ear, the dark maiden in front of him whispered, "You know what to do."

"Yes, My Lady," he said. He looked back through the mirror, stuck his hand in, and pulled it back out. Then, out from the mirror a small company of Orcs came filing out. The Dark Lady's smile grew wider still, and her teeth gleamed through her dark red lips.

-------------------------------Transition-----------------------------------------------

In the rooms where the four Hobbits of Valinor slept, four shadows crept. One stood erect as the other three slouched as all stole into the bedrooms. Then, from the house came muffled yelps, and one high, ear spitting scream.

It was enough.

-------------------------Transition------------------------------------------------------

"Intruders!!!" cried several Elven guards. Elves panicked as swarms of archers grabbed up bows and raced about the island, looking for the monsters that had invaded. The commander, Legolas of Mirkwood, lead a troop to the empty Hobbit house. He and his archers searched, but there was no traced. The sheets were ripped, the pillows slashed, but otherwise, no sign of foul play.

From a walkway Gandalf the White raced towards the house. As Legolas emerged, Gandalf demanded, "What happened?"

"Orcs," Legolas said, "I know their foul stench. They have been here."

"Impossible," Gandalf said, though he knew Legolas spoke true.

"Lord Gandalf!" cried a voice. A young Elf, not yet 50 years old. Came running up to them. Hi head had a great long, horrible gash in it. He said, gasping for breath, "It's… Lady Galadriel… She… needs…needs your help.. In the meeting hall!"

"Follow me!" Gandlaf ordered Legolas and his troop. They all raced as fast as their legs could carry them, and when they pushed open the doors of the meeting hall, they beheld Lady Galadriel, her arms raised, creating a barrier with her ancient powers, as an Elf Maiden clad in purple and black shot green fire from her hands. Lord Elrond was there already, his sword clashing with that of the banished Elf prince, Culachquen. And being carried by the Orcs, knives to their throats, were the four Hobbits - The three Ring Bearers, and Carole, the Hobbit woman who'd been swept to their shores many, many years ago.

"Release them at once, Culachquen!" Gandalf ordered as Legolas and his archers took aim.

"If your rabble so much as ruffle a fletch," the Dark Lady said, still assaulting Galadriel, "And I will order my Orcs to slit their throats!"

"And who are you, Elf Witch?" Gimli the Dwarf asked as he, and four other grey haired dwarves, appeared in another doorway, their axes hefted and ready to slice through Orc necks.

"Who am I?" she responded. Then, with a great double blast of fire, she knocked down Galadriel, and sent her sliding across the marble floor into the far wall. Then, the Dark Elf gave a signal with her hands, and her Orcs and Culachquen swarmed about her. Then, she said, "I am Mordea, Lady of Shadows, and Queen of Mordor!" She thrust out her right arm, and flames erupted in circles about the elves, dwarves, and others who'd come to oppose Mordea. Then, she led her henchmen and her captain back to the mirror they'd come through, and they climbed in through the rippling surface. But, as the last Orc's foot went through the mirror, the glass reverted, and became smooth, and whole, once again.

Then, the fires died, and Gandalf raced to the mirror. He dared not touch it, so, in rage and grief, he used his staff to smash it into countless pieces. "Have every mirror in Valinor broken, and the pieces burned," the White Wizard ordered. Three elves ran to carry out the order. Meanwhile, Legolas and Gimli, and the others of their kind, bowed their heads in despair, as behind them two men and one woman came running in, too late to help their friends.

"Do not give up hope," Galadriel said as Elrond helped her to her feet.

"Who was she?" asked a young elf. Legolas turned to him, and said, "She was a woman of my generation. Born in the Third Age of Middle Earth. I know her."

"As do I," Gandalf said, "But I did not recognize her. What evil could have changed her so?"

"I know not," said Elrond, "But she will pay. She is a traitor!"

"It was she…" Galadriel said. All turned around, and she continued, "It was she I saw in my mirror…Before we sent Aurora-"

"Speak not her name!" Gandalf warned her. "If this is true, then it is time. We must go at once."

"Go?" Legolas asked. "What is going on?" Gimli barked.

"A time that may decide the fate of the world," Gandalf told them. "We must find the Granddaughter the Ring Bearer. We must gather the Children of Legends. We must return to Middle Earth."

------------------------------Transition-----------------------------------

The Black clouds of Mordor blocked the rays of the sun as morning came in Middle Earth. The Orcs carried the kicking and struggling old Hobbits up the stairs of the restored, obsidian and glass tower, and opened the iron doors to the topmost inner chamber. They threw the old Halflings inside, and closed the doors with a loud clang.

"Now see here!" cried old Bilbo Baggins, "This is most rude and barbarian!"

"Hush, Bilbo," Frodo cried. He felt his old heart racing, his shoulder hurt a thousand times worse than it had ever hurt him before. He cried in pain.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried, struggling to tear apart the ropes that bound his hands.

"Frodo!" cried Carole, Frodo's wife, as she crawled to her husband. "Be still, love, you'll make it worse!"

"Where the devil are we?" asked Bilbo. Suddenly, the dark chamber filled with laughter, and then a second later, it filled also with light. Mounted on every wall were mirrors. Mirrors upon mirrors. And from the shadows, she stepped out before them. Her black, heartless eyes stared down at them, filling their souls with dread in her terrible beauty.

"Welcome," she said slowly and deeply, "Heroes of Middle Earth."

-----------------------------Transition------------------------------------

"How long have we been looking through boxes?" asked Egret as he, Danny, Dawn, and Tarin sat in what had once been a study and writing room in Bag End. One window let in the morning's light.

"All night," yawned Tarin. "And I am exhausted."

"Well after hours of floor scrubbing and dusting, I should think so," Dawn said as she pulled out over a hundred empty inkwells from one box.

"We'll soon need to get to furnishing this place, now that it's all clean," Danny said as he but a box aside, and reached for another box. "But right now we need to see what's in these boxes. Maybe we can salvage something."

"Hey, I found a sandwich!" Egret cried, pulling the moldy thing out of his box.

"Disgusting!" exclaimed Tarin.

Egret shrugged, took a bite, and said with his mouth full, "It's still pretty good."

"EWWWW!" cried Dawn, covering her mouth.

"What's this then?" Danny asked as he looked into the box he opened. He pulled out a small oval painting. It was a portrait of a very stern and proper looking Hobbit, with a mass of blond curls on his head. "I think I've found the old portraits!" Danny called in excitement. The others gathered around, and peered over his shoulder. Danny pulled out portrait upon portrait of the hobbits who's owned Bag End over the years; the names of whom were written on a small gold plaque on the frame. At last they came to some that they'd only heard of in books. One was a family portrait- different from the single portraits- that read: The Gamgees of Bag End. It featured eight golden haired children, ranging in ages one to 12 years old. And the two adults were both blond haired Hobbits. One a very lovely lady, and the other a stout, but very cheerful looking Gentlehobbit. The painter had obviously captured the joyful gleam in his eyes.

"This must the old Samwise himself!" Danny said, bursting with excitement and pride.

"Looks a bit like you, Danny," Tarin said, smiling.

"You've found some real history, there, Danny boy!" Egret said.

"There's a few more," Dawn said. Danny put the painting away, and pulled out another small, oval, single portrait. The Hobbit featured in the portrait was very handsome. He had a quiet reserve in his fair face, but as Dawn looked at it, she thought that his smile had a small sadness in it. She had not noticed, though, that her friends had gone quiet.

"Dawn…" Danny whispered.

"Yes? What is it?" she asked them. She looked at them all. Their faces were ashen.

"The painting," Tarin said.

"What about it?" she asked.

"He… he looks like you." Egret said, his voice shaking.

"What? He does not," Dawn said, "My skin is tanned, like a farmer's. His is so pale. And my fave is oval- his is square."

"But… his eyes…" Tarin said.

"What about them?" she asked, getting angry.

"Dawn," Danny said, pulling the painting out and taking it under the sunlight. "He has the same eyes as you." 

Dawn laughed, but took another look at the painting in the sunlight. Her breath escaped her body as she looked into the eyes. She'd seen them before. These were her eyes! The same deep blue as her own! But then, as she looked at the face even longer, she felt a rock hit the bottom of her stomach as she realized…

"I know this Hobbit," she whispered, afraid. She backed away from the portrait, and from Danny, who held it. "I know him!"

Danny looked at her with worry and concern as he said, "But Dawn, the name says 'Frodo Baggins, Esq.'" 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Dawn, you must be mistaken," Merrimac said as he looked at the old miniature painting. When Dawn had fainted after discovering the painting's subject, her friends had rushed her home as fast as they possibly could. Now, as the afternoon begant to turn to evening, the shadows lengthening outside with the setting of the sun, Eliza sat with her dearest only child, the poor girl wrapped in an old blanket.

"I assure you… I am not," Dawn said quietly, her tall frame still shaking from her shock. "I have seen him before."

"Dawn, be logical," Merrimac said, still examining the portrait. "Frodo baggins disappeared at the beginning of the Fourth age, nearly… 6000 years ago! Even if he'd been living with Elves in Valinor, as his book claims, if he had come back at anytime, he'd surely be dead by now. He was over 50 years old when he got mixed up in that 'ring' business, for goodness' sake!"

"Well, love," Eliza interjected as she got up and looked at the painting, "You have to admit… There is a resemblance-"

"No there isn't," Merrimac insisted, jerking the painting away.

"Of course there is," Eliza said, "Especially in the eyes. Those eyes are the same as my baby girl's-

"They are not!" Merrimac shouted, his face going red.

"They are!" Eliza shouted back, "And you nor anyone else can convince me otherwise!"

"Stop it!" Dawn cried, tears streaming down her face. "I can't stand to see you fight! Maybe I am mistaken… Maybe… Maybe I only think I've seen someone like this before. I know Elves don't exist anymore, and I know that the people mentioned in that old red book my very well either be fake or exaggerated. I'm sorry I caused you to fight. Just please, stop."

"Oh, honey lamb," Eliza said, returning to her daughter's side to hold her, "I know this is upsetting… But you're wrong, dearie. Elves do exist, still."

"Eliza," Merrimac warned his wife.

"It's time I told her the truth- the whole truth- about it, Macky," Eliza said to her husband. She turned back to Dawn, cupped the girl's face in her hands, and said gently, "Now, dear, you know you're a foundling - we've never kept that secret, though we love you as we would if I'd born you - but, we never told you everything about the morning I found you in that basket floating down the river. You see, that day, I, and many of the children - your own dear Danwise among them - saw Elves peering through the trees. I saw their bright golden hair, and their dark green cloaks! And when the children pointed them out, I saw them running back into the woods… To the West. And few moments later I saw the basket… floating down the river… and in it was the most beautiful child with the most brilliant blue eyes I'd ever seen."

When Eliza was finished, Dawn was speechless. Her mind was completely blank from this confession. But her heart was filling with anger and hurt and confusion. She turned away from Eliza, and bowed her head. Then, she whispered, "Leave. Please."

"Dawn-" Merrimac said, again wishing to reason with his most beloved child.

"Leave me alone!" Dawn screamed. The sound had made Eliza jump up and run to her husband's arms. They'd never heard Dawn speak this way. So, slowly they left the room, and closed the door. But even as they stood outside the room, they could hear Dawn as she burst into heavy sobs.

Later, as Dawn's sobs dissolved into quiet tears, Danny came in with some hot tea for his friend. He set the tray down, and sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked humbly.

Dawn shook her head, and suddenly draped her arms around his neck as her sobs burst out, again.

---------------------------------------Transition---------------------------------------------- 

In her new Dark Tower, Mordea, the Shadow Sorceress, looked in her many mirrors. Her new prisoners, the four Hobbits of Valinor, were still huddled together in a far corner. Her interrogations were not going as she'd planned. She swirled around, the fabric of her dress whipping in the air, and walked firmly over to her captives.

"I have tried reason," she told the old and decrepit creatures, "And you give me nothing. I refuse to believe that in all your years of living in the Undying lands, that none of you know nothing of the location of the three Silmarils. Now," she said, looming over them, "Speak!"

All shook in fear, but stayed silent. Until Carole, always a very hasty one, spat "Eat worms, you witch!"

"Oh… you insult me?" Mordea said calmly. Then, quick as lightening, she grabbed up old Bilbo by the shirt collar and held him aloft. The others cried out in shock, anger, and fear, but it did nothing. Mordea smiled at them and said, "Tell me what you know, or he becomes a new toy for my Orcs."

"We have told you, you wretched demon," Frodo said, getting up on unsteady legs, rage finally boiling over in him, "We know nothing of the Silmarils! Now put my uncle down!"

Mordea stared into his eyes, which now burned lick the hottest fires, and her smile grew even wider. She exposed her perfect pearly teeth. "I believe you… Frodo of the Shire. I shall indeed put your uncle down… But not before I punish you all for your impudence!" Suddenly, her free hand shot up, and into Bilbo's chest! Sparks of lightening surrounded his old body as he screamed and writhed in pain, whilst his family watched and cried out again in utter horror. At last, Mordea withdrew her left hand, and dropped Bilbo on the floor. The others ran to him. He was alive! Shivering, shaken, but alive. Not even a hole was left where the Dark Sorceress had thrust her hand in him. Then, they turned, and saw in her hand a dark, smoking, seething black ball. It was the size of an apple, and in it's heart was a small orange flame that flickered in and out of view.

Mordea's smile stayed on her lips as she took a casual glance at the orb in her hand. "Oh this?" she asked them. "Oh, this is an interesting little thing. It is the darkness- the essence of pure evil- that the Ring of Power left in your dear Bilbo's heart. I have been so kind as to remove it for him… though it has shortened his life span quite considerably. Perhaps by… 10 years of natural time?" she said as her deep laugh rose. "And all the Ringbearers have this in them. Even you, Samwise, though you 'rejected' the Ring. And I mean to take it from you all.

"But you," she said, suddenly grabbing Carol by her graying hair and dragging her away from the rest, "Are nothing but a meddlesome old shrew."

"Let go of her!!" Frodo demanded, getting up, about to charge at the Witch.

"Silence!" Mordea ordered, turning long enough to throw up her hand, thus producing an invisible wall that knocked Frodo down. As Sam attended to his old master, Mordea dragged Carole to one of her many mirrors. "Now, little Hobbit woman, as a favor to my Captain, I will dispose of you."

As she held up the elderly Hobbit, she inadvertently pressed Carole's back up against a mirror. Then, the mirror began to ripple, and an image appeared. Mordea's gaze was drawn to what she saw there, but she kept Carole held against it, so as not to lose the image. What she saw was a baby… A baby with large feet and tanned skin… And big blue eyes. Mordea smiled, and finally dropped Carole. Carole looked up and stared as Mordea took the mirror in her hands and walked with it to the middle of the room.

"So," Mordea said, "There is a child here you care for?" she asked. "A very precious child?" She looked into Carole's eyes, and with her mind she locked on a memory, making the Hobbit woman's body freeze and jerk as she did so. The Witch withdrew that knowledge, and laughed. "So! That is who she is? Mirror!" she commanded, "Show me this child- where she is, and what she is doing! Show me Aurora Baggins!" Suddenly, the mirror's image went from that of Mordea's to one of passing over fields, mountains, and rivers, to a green country filled with many Halflings. The searched narrowed to a large Hall, filled with yet more Shirelings, then, into a single room, where tow Hobbits sat. One was stout, with curled yellow hair. But the other… Her hair had waves like the far sea, but was as dark as onyx. And her eyes were a blue as deep as an ocean, but as clear as a midsummer sky. She gasped and shuddered. That face! It was like that of another female she'd known- one she despised with all her heart and soul- only her skin tone was different. "No!" cried Mordea, as shed dropped the mirror. As it landed, it shattered into countless silvery pieces.

Mordea whipped around to Carole, her lovely face sneering, and she used her powers to throw Carol back to her companions. Then, the Dark Lady cried, "Guards!!" The doors opened, and Culachquen, followed by many Orcs, filed in. Mordea turned to the Orcs and shouted, "Take these Rats to the dungeons, but leave them alive and unspoiled. NOW!!" The Orcs grabbed up the Hobbits and carried them away, leaving Mordea and Culachquen alone. Mordea began to pace, her spiked heeled shoes crunching the shards of glass.

"What troubles you, My Lady?" Culachquen asked.

Mordea, never ceasing in her pace, bit her thumb, and said, "Her curse is catching up with me. I know it."

"My Lady?" Culachquen asked, his face and voice showing no emotion.

"Never mind," Mordea said, "My plan is beginning. I have some of Sauron's evil now."

"Ah, then you managed to extract the Power from one of the Ringebearers?" Culachquen asked.

"Yes, and I have you to thank for that," she said. "If you had not told me they were lining on the Blessed Isle, I would never had found them."

"Thank you, My Lady," Culachquen said, bowing. When he stood up again, Mordea took a bit of his silken red hair between her fingers, and ran the digits down it. How she loved to touch his hair- as he visibly loved it, too. Then, she let it go, and walked over to a large throne that sat at a far, darkened wall. "You may go, now, my Culachquen," she said. But before he left, she said, "Culachquen," He stopped and turned, his long crimson cape whirling around him gracefully.

"Yes, My Lady?" he asked.

"Those Shire Rats showed me the vision of a girl," she said. "A child most dear to them… I want her killed."

"What would that serve, My Lady?" Culachquen asked.

"You question me?" she asked, her face twisting in anger.

"No, My Lady," Culachquen said, "Forgive me… Where is the doomed one?"

"In the Shire," she said. "A place known as Brandybuck Hall. She will be most easy to find: taller than the others, by far, with raven hair and blue eyes. And if you must know, I want all whose beauty would rival mine to be destroyed."

"How could anyone, Hobbit, Elf, or Human, have beauty enough to rival yours?" Culachquen asked.

"Do not question me!" she roared. She slammed her luminous hands on the arms of the throne, and ordered, "I want this girl killed! Do you understand!"

"Yes, My Lady," Culachquen said. He bowed again, and left the room.

Once out, he went to one of many Orc Captains, and said, "I want your best archer to ride to the land called 'The Shire'. Her Grace has an errand that must be done."

--------------------------------------Transition-----------------------------------------------

As the half moon shone down on the sleeping Shire, six steeds, bearing seven riders, galloped down the dusty roads. Four horses parted, as three continued on their way to a hidden valley in the east, hidden deep in the forests.

The four that departed the group raced past the peacefully sleepy, thatch roofed Hobbit houses and hills of Hobbit holes, until they reached Brandybuck Hall. The horses and riders came to a stop, and the foremost of them dismounted. He did not pause for even a moment, but went straight away to the six foot high front central door, and slammed his fist against it. He did this over ten times before the door was thrust open by a very frustrated Merrimac.

"What the devil do you want?!" the hobbit asked before he saw the large, imposing figure standing behind the door. He slowly looked up the length of the being cloaked in dark green. His jaw dropped, and he staggered back as the brute pushed his way in.

Then the intruder said, "I have come for Aurora."

"Wh.. What? Who?" Merrimac stammered.

"The girl you call… Dawn."

------------------Authoress' Note---------------------

So, what did y'all think? I'm giving an ultimatum: I'll only post more if more than one review comes in. So even if I get one solitary review, I'll still pull the story from the site. So, please, if you read this, post a review! Good, bad, doesn't matter; I need yall's input!!! 


	5. Chapter 4

**Authoress' Note:  
**Sorry for the long wait guys. Here's the next chappie! 

**Chapter 4**

"Preposterous!" Merrimac declared. In a small study within the great Hall, Merrimac's wife and Dawn on a couch across from the old Man who had intruded upon them. Eliza clung to her foundling daughter as if Morgoth himself were in the room, demanding to have the girl, instead of a man whose robes were whiter than the beard on his chin. Merrimac continued, however, "Inconceivable, improbable, and most impossible! I demand credentials! I'll not hand my only child off to some Tomnoddy who waltzes in my Hall, and claims to be Gandalf the Grey!"

The old man chuckled, and said, "Are your ears as blocked as your ancestor's? I have not been Gandalf the Grey for centuries. I am Gandalf the White."

"I don't care if you're Gandalf the Magenta!" cried Eliza, her arms holding Dawn's arm tight, "You'll not take my girl! I found her, and we raised her, and that's all there is to it!"

"I beg your pardon, madam, but that is my point," Gandalf said, standing - or at east trying to, since the full height of the hall ceiling was just under 5 feet high- "Though you may love her and care for her as if she came from your own womb, she is not your child. I know her true lineage, and it demands that she come with me and my company to Imladris."

"Im-what-dris?" asked Eliza.

"Rivendale," said a rather tall, though also stooped because of the ceiling, young man dressed in midnight blue robes. "The Elven haven."

"That pace has been empty for who knows how long," Merrimac said, "Supposing it still exists anyway. And it does not matter! She's not-!"

"I will go." Dawn said bluntly. Everyone stopped and stared at her. Merrimac's mouth had dropped so far it might have touched the floor, and Eliza's fingers were leaving imprints on Dawn's forearm as the middle aged Hobbit shook her head and started to cry.

As Dawn gently pried her adopted mother's hands off her arm, Merrimac stuttered, "N-no! No! You'll not be leaving with some rag tag bunch of lunatics and con artists! I forbid it!"

"Merrimac," Dawn said gently, walking over to him, and taking an already wrinkled hand in her larger young hand, "Father. I have been an outsider in this place all of my life. I have few friends, and my heart has always wondered…" she stopped to swallow her anxiety, and put her feelings into words, "I have always wondered where I truly come from. If these men can give me those answers, I will follow them. And besides… I see no lies or deceit in their eyes, even if their claims of identity are… questionable."

The man who called himself Gandalf grinned, and his eyes let a twinkle escape. "Wisdom beyond your years… You are truly of his kin." Gandalf turned, and said to his companion, "Merdian, we must go. Dawn," he said, turning to the Hobbit girl, "Pack light and swiftly. I fear that our time is slipping away far too quickly for us."

"Yes sir," Dawn said, and she ran back through many doors to her rooms to gather what time gave her permission to take. In her room she opened up her closet, and looked on the many clothes offered. Before she even looked at all the clothes she came to one conclusion.

"Nothing here is practical," she said, "These dresses will get stuck in brambles and rip, and then what will I have? I need something better…" she rushed out of her rooms and went down the hall. There she rushed past Tarin and Egret, who had been worrying themselves sick since her shock earlier in Hobbiton.

"Dawn?" Egret asked as she pushed by him.

"My Lady?" Tarin said, leaping up from his seat. Dawn paid neither any mind as she went into Egret's room, opened his closet and drawers, and started tossing clothes about.

"Cousin?" Egret asked, surprised, as he stood in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"I need trousers!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Yes! Here they are," she said, shaking out two pairs of Egret's trousers.

"Lady Dawn! This is most unbecoming!" Tarin said, shocked. "Why on earth are you taking Egret's clothes?"

"Because he's the only one near my height," she said, running past them to her room. She shut the door in their faces, leaving the two even more bewildered than before.

Luckily Danny came up to them, and after interrogating him, they discovered the reason why Dawn was running willy nilly over Brandybuck Hall.

"That still doesn't explain why she's taken my pants," Egret said.

"You ninny hammers!" Dawn exclaimed as her door flew open. All three boys looked at her with dropped jaws. She had tucked a thick blouse into a pair of pants, and the suspenders were still too loose on her frame - for though she was broader than most hobbit lasses, she was still quite thin. She went past them, struggling to put on a cloak and carry a pack on her back all at once as she made her way to the kitchens.

"I can't go traipsing over the Shire and through bogs in my best Sunday skirt and bodice, now can I?" she asked them as she took loaves and apples and various other small food stuffs and rammed them into her pack.

"But Coz-," Egret started.

"Dearest Lady-!" Train began.

"Dawn, it's dangerous!" Danny said.

"I was going to say unrespectable," Tarin interrupted, "But yes, this undertaking with this 'wizard' is too dangerous for a rare and delicate beauty as yourself to do. Tell him to… to… Bugger off and leave our Shire!"

"You watch your tongue!" Danny said, jabbing his index finger into Tarin's chest. "Now I don't believe this old man to be Gandlaf or nobody neither, but I still wouldn't say anything like that to 'im. Dawn," he said, going to her side as she jammed in three wooden bowls. He grabbed one of her hands, and she stopped long enough to look in her friend's eyes. "Dawn," he continued, "Let me go with you."

"What?" she asked. "Danny, you said it yourself- this is dangerous. I don't mind going, but I'd never forgive myself if my best friend was hurt or even died because of me."

"And I'd never forgive myself if I let you go without anyone to help you. A self proclaimed wizard is fine, but what about someone who can really help you?" Danny asked. "My things are still packed form this morning. I can grab 'em in two shakes." he let go of her hands and rushed off.

"Danny!" she called, but he was already half way to his own rooms.

"I too must go," Tarin said. He bowed and ran off as well.

"Um, me three!" Egret said, giggling and running back the way they had all come.

"I'm surrounded by madmen," Dawn said, shaking her head. She grabbed her now full pack and hurried back to the parlor she had left her parents and Gandalf in.

When entered, she adjusted the pack, and looked up at Gandalf, then said with dignity and solemnity, "I'm ready."

Gandalf looked at her a few moments, then slowly he began to laugh. It grew from deep in his chest, so deep in sounded like a distant rumbling. Then it became raspier, yet louder, as his old eyes twinkled and he clapped a large hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Indeed? Ah yes… Thank you dear child." said the wizard, "You have brought back to this mind a memory that seems even farther away than when it happened. You may not believe me in all I have said, but my dear, your spirit is his exact copy."

"Whose?" she asked, mesmerized by his talk. "Do you mean Fro-"

"I'm ready Miss Dawn," Danny announced, a pack and cloak on him as well. His pack clanged as he took his place on her right, for he had packed quite a few pieces of crockery.

"What on earth?" Merrimac said, as Tarin and Egret rushed in too.

"Tarin Elonwinn Fairbairn, at your service," Tarin said, bowing low to Gandalf, the silent man behind him, and of course to Dawn.

"Don't forget me," Egret said, "Egret Took- always up for an adventure."

This sight made Dawn speechless. Even more so as Gandlaf let our a roaring laugh.

"Bless my old soul!" Gandlaf bellowed in laughter. "The girl is more like him than I thought! She takes not one, but two, from the Gamgee line, and yet another Took! A Took! Heaven help us!" he exclaimed.

"We won't let Dawn leave unless we go too," Danny said defensively.

"I know, I know. You needn't make a speech, dear boy," Gandalf said, taking deep breaths as his fit of laughter died down. "Your family has ever been loyal to hers, either by design or sheer accident. In this case, the latter." he looked down on them all, and took one more chuckle. "Indeed… It would be no trouble for you all to come. But hurry, for time is short, and shorter yet by this bit of comedy," and with that he ushered them all out, Merrimack and Eliza following close behind.

As the older couple stepped into the night, neither could help but cry as they saw four children they had known, and loved, since infancy take their ponies- and one young war horse- from their stalls, mount, and ride off, following Gandalf, the one named Merdian, and a third who seemed to slip in out of the trees by magic. Then, whatever magic had brought the mysterious three to their doors, it also seemed to whisk all away as the night swallowed them from sight.

**_Transition_**

The doors flew open into Mordea's mirror covered throne room. One of her many Orc minions stomped in, and said, "We brought you ano'er of the prisoners, Mistress."

"And what of the sentries I sent?" Mordea said.

"It'll take a while for 'um to get to the Shire, Mistress," replied the Orc.

"I don't care!" Mordea shouted. "I want them there faster! I want that girl dead!"

"Maybe torturin' this rat'll please yer?" it answered. Then he reached behind him and tossed in a rotund hobbit. She recalled that this one was called Samwise. It would be easy for her to reduce this disgusting thing into a mass of quivering hair.

The Orc left and slammed the doors closed, leaving Mordea alone with her new victim. As he huffed and got up, groaning with the creaking of his ancient bones, the dark elf rose form her seat and approached.

"Well, well, well," she said, circling him. "This is Samwise the Brave? More like Samwise the Fat. The Bungler."

"You better not sass me or I'll rip them ears off your 'ead," Sam threatened.

"Oh now, Sam," Mordea mocked, "I thought you liked elves…" she looked at her nails, as if checking for a crack or chip, then she turned and moved quickly behind him. To Sam's poor old eyes it was if she'd disappeared and reappeared behind him. Mordea then grabbed Sam's neck from behind and held him up, his feet kicking and his arthritic hands grabbing and scratching at her perfect one. And without thought or wince, Mordea reached her other hand into Sam's back, and searched out his heart. She knew he too carried a stain of the Ring's power, and she intended to get it out of him. She closed her black eyes and felt for the evil, the jealousy and hate and greed that the Ring's power emanated…

"Ah-ha!" she cried, and griped her prize, ripping it out of him as she tore her hand from his flesh. All the while Sam had grunted and refused to cry out in pain, for he would not give the witch the satisfaction. When it was all over, and Mordea had dropped him to the floor, Samwise was panting and sweating so hard his shirt started to stain.

"What is the meaning of this!" Mordea cried. She had opened her hand and what she held in her palm was no bigger than a marble. "THIS is the effect of the Ring on your heart? Isildur had it shorter than you and his corruption was greater!" she kicked Sam in the side, then yelled, "Guard!"

The doors opened again, and two Orcs answered her summons. "Take him away!" Mordea ordered. "Bring me the leader, Frodo Baggins!"


End file.
